Dinner with Death
by Dinner with the devil
Summary: Technically, she wasn't Bobby's daughter. Had the mouth of a sailor and the hands of a pickpocket, Ms Abby knows that she's not 'normal' by anyones standards. That didn't stop Garth from chasing after her. Too bad she's nothing but trouble.
1. This Girl, Alone

**Supernatural Fanfiction**

**Chapter One: This girl, alone.**

* * *

**~o0o~**

* * *

It was said to be one of the coldest winters that Bobby had ever had at home, dipping below freezing but all the while, his house had been recently insulated, since the past years had been just as cold. The year was 1990 and this was one of the first Decembers that the house had felt entirely warm. His feet were wrapped up warm in a new pair of woolen socks and the fire was roaring a vivid orange. The house was old, and had remained here even before he had started the salvage yard. Ever since he'd married Karen - it still hurt to think of her, dangerous to think alone - he had called this rusting shack home.

Food was never high on his totem-pole of issues. Mostly Bobby would stop at a truck diner and order the first thing on the menu. It wasn't healthy, his belly blew the grunt of it; but it was sufficient enough for him to get on in life. Home cooked meals were rare and they never did taste as good after Karen had passed. His favorite was the ones that she would make at Christmas time. A good, olden-style roast accompanied with pudding and a good beer, of course. Right now, on a December night that was just passing six pm, he missed his old life.

Bobby sat in front of the fire, on the sofa. The house was painted in a thick coat of salt infused outdoor paint, so it was only here that he could rest safely. His eyes were closed, hands rested gently on this belly, reliving the sad, year beautiful memories that were his alone. From his first kiss to his first car, inside, he smiled at them all until a loud bang echoed through the house. It broke his line of thought and grumpily, he rolled off onto his feet, trudging towards the door.

Again, the banging repeated, in an urgent pattern. Bobby rolled his eyes but picked up his pace when a small shriek could be heard through the walls, just as he picked up his shotgun. Undoing all of the locks on his door, it swung open. He peered into the darkness of the night which was only skirting around the small automatic porch lamp. Snowflakes were quietly falling.

The yard, he thought immediately as he closed the door and stepped down onto the layers of snow that were slowly building up. He loaded the gun and made his way into the maze of cars. He could hear breathing amongst his own. Bobby, unsure of what was here, made his way out into the clearing, just outside of the garage. His rifle was held upwards in his line of sight as he circled.

The shriek came louder, making his jump a little. He almost shot the small figure that came running past.

He swore and lowered his gun. "Sh-"

_"aaAAAOOOAAAAARRRRRR!"_

Bobby's mind flinched sharply as the guttural growling of a creature he had not yet encountered before emerged from the shadows of the overhead lights. The creature, whatever it was, had taken the form of a human who was possibly once alive, but now, was certainly dead. Only use for it was a vessel, he considered as he readied himself.

The female had a massive gash down the left side of the face that ripped all the way down to her breast, flaunting a bloody red that had inked on her blue jacket. The side of her face that hadn't been butchered was plastered with make-up, a creative contrast that would have suited something out of a movie. Thick lines of sharp teeth ridiculed her face in a mock smile that didn't suit a human face.

It limped first, then lunged forward at Bobby, who shot several bullets into her cranium. It did no use, he realised quickly, then shooting at it's ankles to prevent it from running. The bullets ripped through her feet and the monster collapsed, screaming bloody profanities, most likely, in it's own way. Bobby then opened the garage door and dowsed the, now, crawling monster in petrol and set it alight.

Its dying sounds became horrendous and morphed into something that sounded humanly sonic the more it burned. The body then sat still in the winter snow, still. The burning continued for a minute more, melting the snow around it, and then put itself out, the smell of sizzling flesh lingering.

He let out a massive breath that he didn't even know that he'd held onto. Something unexpected as this always managed to get his heart pumping. And now that he was wide awake on adrenaline, the hunter side of his brain began to start up. He wrapped the body in a blue tarpaulin so that the remains didn't spill everywhere. He then tossed it in the shredder and re-folded the tarp, putting it back in it's cubbyhole in the garage.

Then, he heard the breathing again.

"Who's there?" He called out to no reply. "Com' on out!"

Again, no reply, much to his annoyance. He sighed and searched the entire yard until he came across a trailer filled with scrap metal at the back of the yard, when he heard scuffling. He only managed to catch it as he passed. If it weren't for that, he would've gone straight back inside and to sleep. Bobby shifted down onto his knees and looked under, feeling the wetness of the snow seep through his jeans.

In the far right corner, a pair of blinking blue eyes stared straight back at him, shaking. He held out a beckoning hand. "Come on, nothin's gonna hurt you. It's gone now."

"Gone?" The small voice repeated in a questioning tone and Bobby's eyes widened slightly. "Are you sure?"

"Yea, I'm sure girly." He replied, nodding, his hand waving at her to come over to him. "Killed it myself."

For a moment, he was met with a contemplating silence that matched the mood of the night. Then, he heard movement and out from under the trailer, the small child caught him in a big, tight hug. Bobby almost fell back from it but managed to stay sturdy with one hand and with it, he pushed himself out of the crouch and stood, the child still clinging tightly. No older than four or five, he thought.

Her breaths were short and filled with panic, but as they neared the house, they quietly slowed down. Her unruly, brown mop of hair hid her face as she buried it into his plaid shirt. He shut the door and plopped her on her own two feet and then said," Follow me."

She nodded as her eyes roamed, her hands moving up and down the top of her arms. She didn't wear much. Apart from a winter nightgown and cardigan, she had nothing else. From the tiny bruises and cuts on her toes and legs, it felt like she ran here.

"You following or not?" He repeated, indicating into the lounge. "Because there's some food left and a bed for ya."

Her lips curled when he said the 'f' word and quickly on her feet, she followed him like a puppy, through the lounge and into the kitchen. She climbed up on the seat and ate all of the food that was given. He placed a cup of holy water on the table and she drank that up entirely too.

She then fell asleep on the sofa, curled up into a ball in front of the fire. Bobby never really knew how to deal with children, let alone girls. It was a miracle in itself that he had gotten so close to his wife after what had happened with his father. He never wanted that stage in his life and was afraid that it would be repeated. But then again, he wasn't careless. It would have been stupid to leave her out in the cold, to where more of whatever that monster was could get her. But he couldn't look after a child.

He tucked a blanket around her small form and went to bed early, deciding that it would be a problem for the morning.

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**~o0o~**

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It wasn't till very late at night, or rather, very early in the morning that Bobby stirred awake in his own bed. He sniffed and blinked till he realised that the girl had gotten up sometime in the middle of the night and had crawled into his bed, for some reason. Was it because he was someone she felt safe with?

"Balls." He muttered, closing his eyes again.


	2. This Girl, Trouble

**Supernatural Fanfiction**

**Chapter Two: This girl, trouble.**

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**~o0o~**

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This girl, or rather more than womanly teenager who Bobby had dubbed Abby, had turned out to be the first thing that had changed Bobby. No longer did he have a constant poke in the back of his balding head to reach for the bottle when she was around, and although he did take a sip every now and then and possibly a bottle of beer on special occasions, he had tried to cut back for her sake. It was only after her freak-out that he'd done so.

"_Come on Bobby, you Twat_!" She had yelled, in a tone that he had not yet heard from her small form. She stood at 5'5. "_Don't_ tell me to shove off! Don't tell me that_ you're_ fine because that's_ bullshit!_ I see you, I_ watch_ you every week, every day drown yourself at the bottom of a bottle! You may have saved my sorry white ass when I was small but sometimes when you drink yourself stupid I sometimes think that I might have gotten off worse because _you're tearing me apart!_"

Abby kept pointing a finger in the air, her blue eyes set ablaze by the rage in her soul. This happened the morning after he had wallowed in bed, drunk almost a full bottle of bourbon. For what reason he'd done that, he had no bloody idea but by the time she had woken up in the morning, Abby had found him on the bed, still fully clothed.

"I love you too much to watch you do this to yourself. One drink is fine every now and then, but if I lose you over something as idiotic as this then you're no better than those demons that are out and about. "

When he had come out of it fully sober and still remembering her tantrum, Bobby apologized with his heart and she forgave with hers. She told him she didn't give two fucks about who her mother or who her father was. He was the only one in her life that she cared this much about. That caring nature of hers extended to the Winchester boys, and to a certain point, their father. (Who, like past-Bobby, had been a drunked but in the sense where he was an angry, aggressive drunk whereas Bobby was a depressed drunk.)

Bobby watched his seventeen year old daughter pace around the kitchen on the phone, to who knows what, only that it was something to do with the Winchesters. Quietly, thinking that it's going to be one of those days, Bobby pulled out a glass bottle of Jack Daniels and poured a shot. Her eyes wandered from the bottle to the shot to his face. Her long hair was done up in a loose bun that had some strands of hair hanging when she cocked her head when giving a serious stare at her father.

"What?" He asked, shrugging slightly, screwing the lid back on the bottle. "It's just one."

"It's just one." She repeated, whispering, almost rolling her eyes. Bobby drank it up. "Yeah, a'right." Abby paused. "No, I didn't mean that Dean, go on."

She then rolled her eyes and nodded her head as Bobby heard Dean's voice through the cell phone. And then, stopped. Her eyes popped out wide, mouth hanging open in absolute surprised. For once, she stuttered, not confident in her words, which was unusual. "Well Dean, w-we talked about it once, he brought it up." She blinked. "No I did not. I didn't think that he way considering that, Mr King Lear. Ho-. No. No, don't you blame this on me. I-, what?"

Bobby raised an eyebrow.

Abby covered the talking piece of the cell phone. "They're coming right now."

"Now?"

She nodded curtly. "Apparently, Sammy bailed on them again but this time, he's gone for good to college. John's a drunk mess and Dean's clueless."

Bobby swore and slammed the shot down on the table.

Abby snapped the phone shut and rubbed the bridge between her nose, frustrated at the turn of events. For god's sake! They just talked idly while they were on a hunt! It wasn't like she was conspiring against the bastards! Sam just wanted a stable life, which in this world of the hunters was asking a lot.

"Can't believe it. Can_not_ believe the balls he has."

"What did he say sweetheart?"

"Apparently it was me who poked Sam into packing up and ditching the boat. Dean had heard him mention me when Sam was fighting with John about the whole thing."

Bobby got up from his seat and put a hand on her shoulder. She pouted up at him. "Kiddo, if John's bringing in a storm, it'd be best if you get out your gun out, just in case."

* * *

**~o0o~**

* * *

The roaring engine of the impala was heard even before Abby had to open her eyes from her slumber. It was an unmistakable grunt, a kind that only needed to be heard once. She lifted herself off of the sofa and turned on the kettle.

A pleasant house is a house stocked with coffee, after all.

However, they didn't get as far as getting into the house. By the time the impala's engine had turned off, shouting could be heard from outside. Immediately, Abby hid the gun in the back of her jean shorts and covered it with her top. She then strode out of the house and into the chaos of the open air. It was mid autumn, so she could still feel and see the frost on her breath.

"Hey," She yelled, when she saw John yelling his nutter off, beginning to get too close to her father for her liking. Dean was barely able to hold his father back and when he caught sight of her coming out, he pleaded with his eyes. "_Hey!_"

"Well, if it ain't littl' ms perfect." John slurred, spitting the 'p'. "What's't like to be Loki?"

"Dad, just st-"

She pointed a finger at him. "Stop it John, it wasn't my intention for Sammy to leave."

"Bullshit!" He spat, trying to walk towards Abby. "T's a load of-"

Bobby had put himself between them. "Take one more step and I will hurt you."

"Protectin' he-"

A loud slap echoed through the yard and John's face reddened. "Hell yeah I protecting her. I'm her father,_ idjit_. Don't you don't you ever let me catch you threatening or raising a hand to her or god help me, I-"

"You'll what?!" He yelled back, in an almost sad way. You could hear the hurt in his voice. "I've lost a _son_ already." He looked at Abby and then back at Bobby. "What difference would it make? It was her fault, I-"

Dean flinched as Bobby pointed at the driveway. "Get out."

Abby blinked. "Eh?"

"Wha?"

"_Get out_." He repeated furiously." Dean, get him out of here before I fill him with a buckshot that he won't wake up from."

Speechless for probably the first time in a while, Dean picked up his father and dragged him into the backseat of the impala. Abby gave the 'call-me' hand signal as Bobby was forcing her back into the house. Unknowingly, Dean shrugged, unsure if he would see either Bobby or Abby again. They were both good people, but that was the first time Bobby blew his roof in front of him.

Bobby closed the door and growled a little, reaching for the bottle. Abby started to object to the thought of him drinking after this, but Bobby cut her off.

"I'm drinking, that's it."

"Are you serious about the 'no-longer-friends' thing?" She asked. "What about John, what about _Dean_? He's bound to-"

"Not another word from you Abby." He said, pouring himself a glass, not caring that she was there, breaking all of those previous promises of a better future.

She sighed and went straight to her room.

It wasn't till two years later that the Winchesters rolled back us their driveway.


	3. This Girl, Sly

**Supernatural Fanfiction**

**This Girl, Sly.**

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**~o0o~**

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One of the ways that Abby liked to pass the time in the tin shack in somewhere in South Dakota, was to make her own clothes. She saw no reason to buy a piece of clothing that everybody else has when you can make your own clothes that are made to your standards -_ plus, it's cheaper_! Right now, she was in the middle of making a skirt. Abby had cut all of the pieces out and was sowing the parts together, purposely putting them inside out so that the seam edges wouldn't be seen.

Even though she rented a house and had a steady job of painting drywalls, Abby sometimes still stayed with her father. She didn't like the thought of him being all alone.

Abby took the material out from under the foot of the sewing machine and inspected it meticulously, cussing when she'd seen the back and front connected. Her potty mouth had mainly come from the man himself and for it, she'd gotten into some pretty crappy situations. Some were ever to be spoken of ever again. There was also another that had something to do with mint ice cream and tyres. Also another situation that nobody would hear to use as blackmail.

"Are you kidding? Useless piece of….." She threw the unpicker at the wall. Grabbing her wallet, Abby stomped down the stairs, past Bobby, who was reading up about some mythical creature. The book was in Japanese, so she didn't understand much of it but enough to put together sentences that looked legit.

"Goin' out."

"Where to?"

She slipped on her sneakers. "Out. To the material shop. Want anything?"

He gave her that _'you-already-know-what-I-want'_ look and without having to say anything, she asked where one of her ID's were. "Why, d'you get kicked out again?"

"Do you mean 'I got kicked out of a liquor store?'," She asked, her eyes questioning him, lips pursed. "They keep thinking I'm a little white-ass minor looking for cheap booze and a good time."

"And?"

"Well I ain't a minor and my ass isn't as white as cream cheese but the rest of it seems okay to my standards." She shrugged.

He grabbed a random one off of the table and chucked it like a frisbee. She barely caught it with one hand and poked her tongue out.

"Get some good stuff too, not like t-" Bobby's rant was cut off one of the phones labelled on the wall with masking tape with the words "Fed Marshalls' in black marker.

Abby sniffed, winking. "Better get to work then, Mr Fed."

He t'ched at her attitude and readied himself. "Kick your ass later."

When Abby got out the door, she rolled her eyes-a regular habit of hers-and opened the truck door. "Ha, I'd like to see you try old man."

* * *

**~o0o~**

* * *

It turns out that you couldn't buy just one unpicker, Abby had found. In packs of three, they came in. A waste of money it was to spend on two unpickers that she wouldn't use for a while but at the time, she needed at least one to finish that skirt. It was a weekend that day, plus the store had been filled with ageing woman and students desperately looking for materials to finish their school projects that they had left to the last minute again, so it wasn't difficult to slip out of the store with one packet in her backpack.

Or two packets. Or four.

After she, this time, brought the six pack and a bag of chips, Abby hopped back into the driver's seat, turned the ignition on and blasted the stereo. It was on some random channel that she didn't know since it had been Bobby that had been the last one in the truck. There was a country/folk song in mid-beat, so she just left it playing for the remainder of the journey.

The black paint-job of the Impala was unmistakable in her mind. She did fall in love with it the first time it rolled up to Bobby's door. What, with it's shining wheels and jacked up hunting kit in the back, Abby did feel a little jealous. Old cars had been a soft spot for her. Bobby had taught her to mend them up with love and care. Classics were her babies, even if she didn't own the majority of the ones she kept her eyes on.

However Abby knew that if the Impala had made a comeback, it was sure to bring all of the woes it's occupants held in an other-worldly sense. Just like she had done on the night that Bobby had slapped John, Abby concealed her gun in the back of her pants and quietly sneaked into the house, taking off her shoes before entering.

There were three, all males. One was Bobby's. (The years of drinking had morphed his voice into something that would always be recognisable to Abby's ears.) Stealthily, she poked her nose around the door frame.

Bobby was in the middle of a conversation with Mr Dean himself, going on about to trap a demon. Abby stood there at the doorway and then realised something. She kept quiet and picked up a piece of plywood in the hallway. Why hadn't Rumsfeld barked when she had come home? He was a rather large dog and always made sure that his owners were firmly covered with drool before minding his own doggy-business. She then heard the howling of Rumsfeld end abruptly, her father hearing it too. She could hear his voice and his concern.

Her first thought was to go check on him. Abby headed for the back door and jolted when it was kicked in. Whoever it was had undoubtedly come for the Winchesters. Luckily, Abby stood at the side of the door, so whoever had kicked it in didn't get a quick enough chance to see the plywood being aimed at their head in a baseball style swing. The plywood snapped in half and Abby was thrown off of her feet and sent flying into the bookcase. Would have close-lined the boys if they hadn't ducked.

"Abby!"

"M'okay Sammy." She slurred, groaning on the floor. Abby sat up and eyed the woman with the red leather jacket.

"No more crap, okay?" The blond asked, waltzing into their home, no visible sign that she had just taken a hit to the skull.

Dean unscrewed the bottle top of some holy water but with a wave of her hand, he landed in a pile of books. Abby mentally cursed because that she had just finished filing them.

Sam grabbed Bobby's sleeve and began to pull him away from the woman, the demon, Abby now realised. If she got too close, they'd be kitty kibble.

Abby whipped out her gun and shot through the demon's shoulder. It growled and bore it's black, beady eyes at her, focussed to kill.

"Come on, what are you, _pussy_?" She asked as the demon stepped closer.

"You want to test me girl? Because I can torture you in ways that you cannot begin to imagine."

Abby stepped back with every step the demon took till her back hit the wall. Then, she looked up at the devil's trap above the demon's head. "How about we reverse our roles? I like my idea better."

Dean smiled "I agree. Especially when we knew you were coming."

Abby smirked. "Got ya."

"You little _shit!_" The demon spat. Knowing that she couldn't escape the trap, she didn't bother to move but it was evident that she wanted to tear out Abby's throat.

"Abby, go get a chair." Bobby asked, briefly pointing to the kitchen. "And don't throw it at it."

She pouted, smiling and got the crappiest chair from the kitchen for the demon to sit in. They bound it's arms to the arms of the chair. Bobby came back with what was left of the tin of emergency salt, screwing on the was way more in the basement, but they kept a sack full of the white stuff upstairs.

"I re-salted the doors and windows. Any demons out there won't be coming in."

"Pops, I think you should focus on biker barbie than worrying about the others."

Dean's eyes met Sam's and they both nodded, agreeing with the problem at hand. He shoved past Bobby and faced the demon. "Where's our father, Meg?"

"Y'didn't ask very nice…."

"Where's our father, bitch?" He rephrased.

"Ooo, gee, you kiss your mother with your mouth? Oh, I forgot."

"You think this is a freakin game?!" Dean leaned closer. "Where is he? What did you do to him?"

"He died screaming. I killed him myself."

"Wow, what a lie!" Abby exclaimed sarcastically. "My bullshit meter hit a high! The boy's father is an asshole but he's strong. I highly doubt that he's kicked the can without taking that yellow eyed demon with him."

"Wasn't talking to you, meat-sack."

"Careful, you might hurt my feelings. You know, the only thing that you don't possess?"

Dean slapped it, or rather, her before she could have anything else to say. She breathed in sensually, her eyes never leaving Dean.

"You know, that's quite the turn-on." Meg purred. "You hittin' a girl."

"You're no girl." He said back, his anger barely contained under that stubble of his. Bobby pulled Dean away, while Sam kept swapping his gaze between the short brunette and Meg. They walked to the other side of the room. Abby could tell how the younger Winchester wanted to speak with her because the last time she had anything to do with them, things weren't exactly smooth.

"Look, Sammy…."

"No, I get it." He shook his head." I know you take things to heart. You had, and still do, every right to be mad at us. I don't believe what she's saying, I know Dad's still alive." He looked down at her and his eyebrow went up as he saw her smiling. "What?"

"If you're gonna say 'You don't have to help us find him', can it. I'm twenty now, not some teenager. I'm a big girl who can handle her own fights. I'm going to help you and then I'm going to give him an earful for the shit he tried to dump on me when you took off." Abby frowned. "It would've been nice if you had given me a heads up instead of Dean calling at dinner time."

"I'm sorry Abs, I really am! But I couldn't stand it anymore. ANd it was Dad that said don't come back. I didn't have much of a choice."

She sighed and patted his shoulder once. "I know buddy. You and I both have adjustment issues. Families suck."

Bobby had come back with his journal out. Abby tilted her head, as if asking a question. He nodded. "We've got a possession."

"What?" Sam said. "You mean that there's someone in her?"

"Probably." Abby said. "Not too sure though. It depends from person to person."

Bobby handed the journal to Sam. "You can take it Sam. Abby, you stay back."

"B-"

He raised a finger. "Don't."

She mouthed a swear word and leaned back on the bookcase, crossing her arms. The demon called Meg asked if they were reading her a story to which she got a sarcastic 'yeah' from Dean.

Abby could see Sam's hands shaking slightly as he started the incantation. A few times, he paused to hear her talking but continued speaking in latin. Meg continuously moaned in pain as the exorcism became more and more severe. Her threats increased as the incantation reached its climax. Pages in open books began to move on their own. A wind somehow found itself inside.

"Where is he?" Dean asked again.

"Won't answer you."

"WHERE?"

"DEAD!"

"NO HE'S NOT!" Dean hit the side of the chair that made Abby flinch slightly. She rubbed her arm and looked at Meg, who was breathing through her teeth. "HE'S NOT DEAD, HE CAN'T BE!" He breathed in and noticed Sammy wasn't speaking. "What are you looking at, keep reading!"

"Stay calm." Abby said and Dean brushed off her hand.

"Don't tell me to stay calm Abby, this son of a bitch is lying!"

She nodded once. "Well, yeah. But you acting like a hormonal hannah isn't going to help the situation."

He went to give her a sassy comeback before realising her point. She patted his back before retreating to the bookcase, where she got a glare from her father. At first, he didn't particularly like her being anywhere near the supernatural stuff. Heck, it's still the same now. Except that now, she's a little has a sailor's mouth.

Meg howled louder as the chair began to move on its own, following the lines of the hand painted pentagram on the floor.

"Stop!" Dean yelled, when he managed to catch something Meg had screamed.

Abby didn't hear her exact wording but it was somewhere along the lines of John's status and whereabouts. All of this screaming was giving her a headache. What was worse that was she left the beer in the truck.

"That's eve...rything…..," She panted. "That's all I know."

"Keep going Sam."

"W-What, I told you the truth! You little bitch, you promised!"

"I lied!"

_Constantly,_ Abby added.

"Sam._ Sam._" Dean looked up at his little brother, who looked so conflicted. _"Read."_

He grabbed his sleeve. "We can still use her. Find out where the demon is."

"She doesn't know!"

"She lied."

"Sam, there's an innocent girl trapped in there and we've got to help her."

Bobby paced around and told them upfront. "You're gonna kill her."

"What?"

Abby nodded. "While the body looks perfectly okay, sometimes it masks up the real injuries. Sometimes, the possessed humans don't make it through the exorcism. I doubt that she will. The only reason she's still breathing is because of 'Meg'." She made bunny ears with her fingers in the air. "Then again, you don't have much choice."

"Abs." Bobby threatened. "She'll die."

Dean gestured to her. "We can't just leave her with that thing inside of her."

"She's dead either way." Abby stated, shaking her head furiously. "Sam, hurry up and finish."

Unsure whether to listen to Abby, Sam thought to himself, weighing the pro's and con's. (If there even was a pro in this situation.) He breathed and began the incantation from where he stopped.

_"Ut inimicos sanctae Ecclesiae, te rogamus, audi nos. Terribilis Deus de sanctuario suo._" She screamed and Abby flinched again, the wind picking up again. It tickled her bare legs. Meg eyes turned into a melting black and her whole body began to shake._"Deus Israhel ipse truderit virtutem et fortitudinem plebi Suae. Benedictus Deus. Gloria Patri."_

A long, shrivelling howl erupted from her as a black smoke hit the roof, stretching everywhere to escape the house. The lights in the room flickered as everybody watched the smoke disappear. Meg's screams disappeared, and once the black smoke had diminished her head became hunched.

Thick blood dripped from her mouth and fell onto her lap. Abby didn't think that the girl would have survived, but when she quietly moaned, her head lifting up slowly, her doubts were cleared slightly.

Dean took ahold of the metaphorical reigns. "Go call nine-one-one. Abs, get some blankets."

She nodded and jogged to the linen cupboard. They didn't have much in the way with blankets or such, so Abby went up the stairs and got the one off of her own bed. She then grabbed a bottle of the emergency water from the kitchen and headed back into the study.

They had already taken her out of the chair and Sam held her head up. She, whoever the girl was, moaned in absolute pain. But it was quiet and moved with her breathing pattern. Not a good sign in Abby's books.

She gestured to Dean to move over while she wrapped the blanket around the body and wiped the blood away from her nose and mouth.

The girl was trying to speak. _"...ere…"_

"Here?" Abby repeated. "You're at my father's house."

She shook her head. _"N…..No….It's been….a year…."_

"Don't talk." Sam told her, panic evident in his voice. Abby looked at Dean, who was concerned for his brother. "Help is on the way."

_"I've been waiting…...for somebody…..,"_ She muttered something inaudible._ "...I couldn't..move my body….."_ The squelching of saliva and blood blocked her voice._ " ...'s a nightmare…"_

"Was it telling the truth about our Dad?"

Abby sighed. Blunt as a knife and straight to the point.

_"Yes…."_ She replied, breathing heavily. It strangled into a whimper and Abby twitched at Dean's attitude. Yeah, he's got a right to be mad, but it ain't no reason to interrogate the dying person!

"Enough Dean." Abby whispered, chucking the blood-soaked tissue away. "She's barely holding up."

_"No…"_ She said to Abby, barely smiling. _"...'s fine….He want's...you to know…..that…...he's onto him…"_

Abby sighed and hung her head. "Are you kidding me?"

Dean shook his head. "Dad's alive. None of that matters."

Bobby walked back into the study with a heap of water. The girl groaned as Abby laid her in her lap so that she had support when sitting up. The blond slurped the water down as Dean held the cup. She coughed some out when Sam asked where the yellow eyed demon was.

_"Not there….other ones."_

"Where did they take our Dad?"

She barely managed to say the next sentence. She lisped, but the last word Abby could catch_. "..e...rive…sunrise.."_

"Sunrise? What does that mean?"

Abby felt the girl's body sag and her lungs stopped. Dean repeated his question but it was already apparent that she was dead. Amazing, how she made it that far, poor thing.

"Abby, lay 'er down." Bobby ordered, concerned that his baby was holding someone elses. "We'll get rid of it later."

"River." She repeated. "She said by the river, I think." Abby cocked her head to the side. "There's no rivers around here."

Bobby shrugged. "Best you boys get out of here before the paramedics turn up."

"What are you gonna say when they come?"

"You think you invented lying to authorities?" He asked teasingly. "I'll figure something out. Abby'll cry her eyes out to impress them."

"I impress myself sometimes…." She said to herself smugly and groaned when Bobby hit her lightly with a hardcover book. _"Ow!"_

"Here, take this." He said to them." It'll help you. And bring your Daddy back here. I won't even try and shoot him this time."

"Thanks for everything." Dean said sincerely and Abby smiled, crossing her arms.

"Don't you go dying on us now, 'kay? 'Cause if you do, makes you a pussy."

He smirked and held his mouth. Sam waved as he left through the door. "Bye guys!"

"Adios," Abby called. "Don't die!"

The door shut quietly and they both breathed out.

"Go pack up the water, hun." Bobby said. "Medics will be here soon."

* * *

**~o0o~**

* * *

While the medics were dealing with the body, Bobby clicked his neck and looked around for Abby. As usual, she had blown the away with her acting, blubbering on about how _awful_ it was to find her on the side of the road to the point where Bobby escorted her outside. She then excused herself to get the beer that was in the seat of the truck, which Bobby wasn't particularly happy about.

That was a few minutes ago.

So when he went outside to find the truck mysteriously missing, he swore.

_Idjit._

* * *

**~o0o~**

* * *

**Hey guys, DWTD here. Just asking that if you like this, please review!**

**Thanks!**


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